


Here Comes the Sun

by ditsypersephone



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlolly - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4015570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ditsypersephone/pseuds/ditsypersephone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of connected one-shots about the Hooper-Holmes family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The one where Hooper-Holmes No. 2 is born...

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of one-shots based on one of my specific headcanons for a Hooper-Holmes family. They were posted on my tumblr originally. But I've decided to put them up here so they can live together in one 'story' - the one-shots aren't necessarily in chronological order. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> The BBC characters aren't mine but I'm having fun playing with them.

** Let Your Heart Be Light **

* * *

Christopher John Hooper-Holmes is born seventeen minutes after midnight on the twenty-fifth of December. His lusty, hearty cry makes the attending doctor chuckle and greet him happy holidays.

His older sister Ava Matilda, precious and precocious, replies to all declarations of “You got a baby brother for Christmas!” with a nonchalant “I wanted a puppy.” Her favourite past time for the next few months is staring at him in fascination.

His mother, exhausted but radiant, looks at his father and with an impish twinkle in her eyes says “How’s that for getting you out of Christmas dinner with your parents and Mycroft?”

His father kisses his mother’s forehead and murmurs “Now they have even more reason to be around on the twenty-fifth.” But his beaming smile belies any disgruntlement his tone may convey.


	2. The one where the Hooper-Holmes ring in the new year

**Through the years we all will be together**

* * *

 

Ava Matilda runs into the house and up the stairs, eyes bright with excitement and nose red from the cold. At the top, she quiets and tiptoes towards her parents’ bedroom.

“Mummy?” she whispers as she enters. Her mother, sitting in the glider and nursing her baby brother Topher, smiles and beckons her over.

“Did you see the fireworks?” her mother asks, placing an arm around her shoulders and cuddling her close.

Her mummy is warm and soft and Ava Matilda leans into her, watching Topher feed. Babies are weird but fascinating.

Her father comes into the room and Ava Matilda remembers that she wanted to tell Mummy all about their night time excursion to see the fireworks. So she begins her tale, describing everything she saw with the exuberance of a three-year old. But by the time her Daddy takes Topher from Mummy to burp, she’s yawning.

“Time for bed, little one,” her Mummy says, taking her into her arms.

“Topher is the little one,” Ava Matilda protests but eagerly lays her head on her mother’s shoulder. She is tired but she wants to stay with Mummy and Daddy and Topher a little longer.

“Will you and Topher come next time?” she asks, her eyes already closed and fighting another yawn.

“I think next time we can all go together,” her Daddy says and her Mummy gives her a kiss on the cheek.

Ava Matilda smiles and falls into a deep sleep.


	3. The one where Molly and Sherlock tie the knot...

**Yellow Shoes**

* * *

Three year old Emmy Watson decided that weddings were a lot like birthday parties - there were pretty dresses, decorations, presents and, most importantly, cake.

The only difference was that, instead of games, there was dancing.

But when her Auntie Molly drew her to the dance floor and twirled her around, Emmy Watson decided that dancing was just as much fun as playing games.

And that her Auntie Molly was the best birthday princess ever!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over on my tumblr, you can see the artwork I commissioned that goes with this drabble - http://ditsypersephone.tumblr.com/post/95752790954/its-molly-and-baby-watson-dancing-at-the-wedding


	4. The one where Mycroft doesn't win...or does he?

**Mycroft and His Machinations**

* * *

 

“Uncle Mycoft said doodie!” three-year old Ava Matilda exclaims.

The British Government raises his eyebrow, “I certainly did not, young Miss. I said ‘duty’.” He enunciates the syllables crisply.

His little niece looks at him and then her father, sat opposite with a grin on his face.

“What is 'du-tee’?” Ava Matilda asks, brows furrowed.

“Duty is something your father thinks he can ignore,” Mycroft answers with a sour smirk at his brother.

Sherlock, flashing a triumphant smile, counters, “I’ve produced a grandchild, with another on the way. I think it’s safe to assume that I have done my duty.”

“We’ll see what Mummy has to say,” his older brother threatens.

“She’ll be too busy doting on Ava and Molly and forget about 'Billy Elliot’. And if she does remember, Molly would love a night out.”

Mycroft stands up, brushing the imaginary lint and wrinkles off his three-piece suit. “I see there was no need for me to visit.”

“Sit down, Mycroft,” Molly commands, coming in with the tea tray balanced on her bulging belly.

The epitome of politeness, he takes the heavy tray from her and decides his fate has been sealed. Two cups of tea and a massive slice of homemade sponge cake later, he finds it’s not such a burden after all.

He’ll make sure to include lots of details about his niece and the unborn Hooper-Holmes during his phone call to Mummy in the evening. Perhaps there is a way for him to profit from his brother’s foray into sentiment too. Spending time with grandchildren surely must trump going to musicals.


	5. The one with the 'mind palace'...

**You’ll never know, dear**

* * *

 

Ava and Topher know that when Daddy is on the sofa, eyes closed and his hands under his chin, he’s in his ‘mind palace’.

He’s explained to them what it is and is teaching them how to build one of their own. Ava is convinced that hers must be bigger than Topher’s, because she’s older and therefore must have more memories.

Although he does not speak and barely moves when he’s in there, Ava and Topher also know that they’re always welcome to drape themselves across his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

Molly often walks into the living room to find her three favourite persons snuggled on the couch, with old Toby perched near Sherlock’s head.

She knows the kids think that their father is in his 'mind palace’. But she also knows that her beloved will never admit to needing a nap every now and then.


	6. The one with the new family member...

**I wouldn’t change a thing**

* * *

 

“Christopher John Hooper-Holmes! Is that a rat in a can?”

Molly Hooper, through years of living with Sherlock Holmes and having children with him, is used to finding strange things around the house. So she shouldn’t really be surprised to find a small white furry thing staring at her with tiny red eyes from the confines of a soup can.

And it isn’t that her son has been trying to smuggle a rodent into the house that has her flummoxed. It’s the can used as transportation.

“Mum, she has no tail,” her daughter interjects.As if that explains everything. They definitely get that from their father.

Molly looks between her two children - Ava with her wild mane, Topher with the gap in his teeth - and then the rat in the can.

It squeaks, nose twitching and she knows it is fait accompli. A vet visit needs to be organised and they’ll have to go out to get a proper cage and essentials. Rats can’t live in old cans.

“Why is it in a can?” she asks and her children’s faces break out in grins.

The tale, despite conflicting details from both narrators, does shed some light on how her children have come home with a new pet. It involves a case, a trip to see one of the homeless network and their father accepting the animal from Linda. Ava tells her mum that her old coat is keeping Linda warm, Topher says she looks nice in it.

While she isn’t angry that the children have brought home a new pet, she is slightly frustrated with Sherlock. She’s not shy about letting him know once he gets home and the kids are sleeping soundly in bed.

Firstly, they’ve had discussions about him taking them on cases -

“It looked like a three!”

“That’s not the point!”

And secondly -

"You could have stopped by a pet shop and gotten Kylie a nice new cage and things with the kids before bringing them home.“

Sherlock just gives her that exasperated look, "I had to get them home as quickly as possible, it turned out to be an eight!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by that one time my brother brought home a white rat, in a can. My mother was not amused. We did keep the rat and named her 'Kylie'.


	7. The one where they get it together and get together

**It’s Been a Long, Cold, Lonely Winter**

* * *

 

Sherlock is apprehensive of what he’s about to say, but it cannot be helped.

“Molly, I’m yours, if you still want me.”

“That’s nice,” she replies, not looking up from the game she’s playing on her tablet.

He blinks at her, non-plussed. Then stares. It’s a long, uncomfortable while before Molly stops what she’s doing and turns to look at Sherlock.

“Sorry, what?”

The sentiment still stands, but it’s so different when the person of your affection is looking at you, with their luminous eyes behind glasses, looking like you’ve delivered the most incredulous news ever. He almost loses his nerve the second time.

“I want to be yours.”

She places the tablet on the coffee table, then sits up straight on the couch. 

"Why?”

Oh the reasons he could give. Elaborately detailed reasons. He has a list, in his head. Of course he has. It’s taken him ages to get to this point and there have been many arguments against giving in. But it is not giving in, he realises, but opening himself up to the inevitable, accepting the truth.

So there is only one simple answer to her question.

He takes her hands, holds them lightly in case she wants to let go. Hoping she won’t.

“I love you.”

He waits, watches her. Can only guess what she’s thinking as she just looks at him. Then her hands close around his and there is a burst of joy in his chest, exhilaration like he’s never felt before.

Hours later, as the sun comes up and peeks through the drawn blinds of Molly’s bedroom, she murmurs, “I love you, too.”


	8. The one with the new dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking of writing something like this for a while and then ordinarilygraceful on tumblr sent me a headcanon/prompt thingy that gave me the push to finally write this drabble.

**George**

* * *

 

“Daddy! Guess what mummy brought home!”

This announcement from his eldest child is followed by a joyful bark from a big, fury thing excitedly wagging its tail. No guesswork required for this, then – not that he ever guesses, of course.

“A brain?” he says, playing the game, valiantly ignoring the wriggling dog trying to greet him. This is a bit of a challenge, since the dog in question isn’t exactly small and is trying its hardest to gain his attention.

Ava gives him a look, that is 100% her mother. “You’re being silly, daddy.”

He kisses her on the forehead. “Not a brain, then?”

Again, Ava frowns at him disapprovingly, like a miniature Molly.

The dog – a beautiful red Irish setter – barks and Sherlock, being only human, crouches down to scratch behind its ears. This is met with approval from both the dog – leaning into his touch – and his daughter.

“She likes you!” Ava says.

“Who’s this, then?” Sherlock asks.

“George. She’s three, like Topher. Mummy said she can live with us if you say okay. Can she? Please, daddy? She knows how to go potty outside. Please, daddy?”

The supposedly cold, machine-like consulting detective does not have the heart – ha! – to break a young girl’s heart. But this is something that needs to be discussed with his wife and the mother of his children first.

“Where’s mummy?”

“Upstairs, with Topher. He spilled the water colours.”

“Do you want to play in the garden, with George?”

“Okay!”

With a “Come along, George,” the dog follows Ava outside. Sherlock watches for a moment, as his daughter tries to explain the mechanics of fetch. Clearly the dog is already an expert at this, as it immediately starts lolling around the garden chasing the ball.

“Daddeeeeeee!”

He turns around, to see his son running towards him with open arms. He scoops him up and blows raspberries in his neck. Topher giggles, and tries to reciprocate by blowing bubbles on his father’s face.

Topher points outside, “Look, new doggie, daddy. She ours.”

Again, he really does not have the heart – ha ha – to dash young children’s dreams, so let’s Topher join Ava in the garden. And addresses his wife, standing by the door.

“Having a guest for dinner?”

She approaches, shaking her head ruefully, pecks him on the lips. “I don’t know how it happened.”

He hugs her close, and listens to the story of how Dr. Molly Hooper adopted a dog.

“Meena’s neighbours had a divorce and neither wanted to keep the dog. They were going to take her to a shelter. Meena can’t have her because Steff is allergic. She showed me a photo and…and I just couldn’t let her go to a shelter. I’m sorry.”

Sherlock kisses her lovingly. “You are the most beautiful, warm-hearted person I know.”

“So you’re okay with this? I know it’s probably not the best idea, considering the upcoming addition,” she points at her barely noticeable bump. “But both kids have been asking about a puppy for a while, or at least Ava has, and George is housebroken and Meena says she’s the sweetest dog ever. And look at them…”

The parents turn to look at their children, running and laughing with the dog, and Sherlock knows that he never even considered saying no. The happiest moments of his childhood had been with Redbeard.

He caresses Molly’s stomach, “Well, little bee, I guess we have a dog.”

Molly hugs him. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he says, kissing her temple. “By the way, how is old Toby taking this?”

She chuckles, “He really loves the new dog bed.”


	9. The one with where Ava is born...

**Little Darling**

* * *

 

Sherlock’s hands shake so much the first time he holds Ava Matilda, that he is afraid he might actually drop his first born child.

She is tiny, a little less than the average birth height and weight of children born in the UK, and his very large hands should be enough to support her. Yet his fingers feel clumsy and his wrist limp and he sends his wife a pleading look. It is ridiculous that Molly, who’s been in labour nearly a day and has just pushed a human being out of her body, looks more composed than he.

“I just have to take her for a moment,” a nurse says and he finds himself very reluctant to relinquish his hold on his child. His hands steady and Ava Matilda becomes a solid, comforting weight.

“She’ll be back with her Daddy in just a bit,” the nurse assures with a smile, taking the newborn from him.

He goes over to Molly, sweaty and beautiful, strokes the hair sticking to her forehead off her face, kisses her sweetly with all the overwhelming emotions he’s feeling.

—  
Molly looks down at her daughter, now latched on contentedly to her breast after initial struggles - she’d naively thought that it couldn’t be that hard - and again there is this rush of love for this tiny human being that she wasn’t prepared for.

Ava Matilda has been a part of her for the last nine months - and certainly hasn’t been a quiet one, with her rolling and tumbling - but when Molly saw her for the first time, when her red-faced, squalling daughter had been placed into her arms, she fell in love with her for the second time.

“She’s so fragile,” Sherlock whispers, as he sits down beside her on the bed, his large hand hovering over Ava’s head, covered with a fine down of dark hair.

“We’ll keep her safe,” Molly says, stroking their daughter’s cheek with her index finger.

“Always,” Sherlock replies, placing a kiss on Molly’s cheek.


	10. The one with the writing assignment

**My Mother**

My Mummy’s name is Doctor Molly Hooper. She is not a normal doctor because she is a pathologist. This means she works with dead people.

She works at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. Sometimes she works in a laboratory.

She wears a white lab coat that is really swishy, but not as swishy as my Daddy’s coat. She gave me a white coat on Christmas last year.

My Mummy says that working with dead people is important because sometimes they need your help.

My Daddy is a detective and he and Mummy work together there. She tells him why the dead person died.

My Mummy is also very good at baking. My uncle Mycroft says she makes the best cupcakes. That is true. I love my Mummy’s cupcakes. She says that she’ll make loads and loads on my birthday and I can bring them to school. Sometimes she lets me bake with her and I wear the lab coat so I don’t get dirty.

She has brown hair and brown eyes and my Daddy says she is not very tall but thats okay because she is the perfect size. I have brown eyes like my Mummy and curly hair like Daddy. I love when Mummy sings to me and when she hugs me and says she loves me. I always hug her back because she is my Mummy and I love her.


	11. The one with the dental surgery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt by Sherlollysmooch: Sherlock has to undergo a small dental surgery, and when he wakes up to find Molly and his children by his side, he surprised that they belong to him. He turns into a blubbering mess just because he's so happy that he has this beautiful family to call his own.

**Silly Daddy**

* * *

 

The woman smiling at him was lovely.

Lovely and sexy and he wondered what else he could deduce about her. He put his huge brain to work and observed the following:

 

  1. The woman was wearing a ring. (Oh, of course someone as lovely and sexy as her would be with someone).
  2. There were two children standing next to her and there was enough of a resemblance for him to conclude that they must be related. (Of course she would have children, she looked like the maternal type. She probably hugged them and sang to them when they were upset. She probably baked too.)
  3. He was very jealous of this woman’s partner and the life they had and he wondered if things had been different, whether he’d have had a chance with her. Probably not.



 

He sighed.

* * *

 

“Mummy, what’s wrong with Daddy?” the smaller child asked, making him look around for the mentioned paternal figure.

He noticed that it was just the four of them in the room and that made no sense at all. The woman held out a tissue and gently wiped at his face. Oh dear, had he been drooling? How embarrassing.

“It’s the anaesthesia they had to give him, it’s still in his system. But he’ll be fine in a while.”

“The athestesia was so it won’t hurt, right Mummy?” the child asked, smiling proudly at him and then the woman.

She ruffled his hair and smiled back at him, “Correct.”

The bigger child pointed at him and said, “Daddy’s drooling again.”

He looked around the small room once more, to make sure that it was indeed just the four of them and there wasn’t some invisible fifth person hanging about. When he was fairly sure that this was the case - no invisible person in sight - he looked at the woman and the two children in awe.

Well, once you’ve eliminated the impossible, then the daddy they mentioned was him! This lovely, sexy woman was his wife - he noticed the ring on his finger - and these two children were his progeny. “Aw you my fafamiwy?” he asked, appalled that he had no control over his tongue and drool.

The woman - his wife? - wiped at his chin again and gave him a bemused look, “Yes.”

He looked at the girl - eight by his estimation - and boy - four or five - who looked back at him with fondness and maybe slight worry.

“You my chiwdwen?” he said, suddenly overcome with the urge to cry.

“Daddy, you’re being silly!” the boy exclaimed, while the girl looked at her mother and they shot each other identical looks.

“Mummy, why is Dad crying?” the girl asked with alarm.

“It’s just the after effects from the medication they gave him,” she said. “He’ll be fine.”

“Can I…can I hug you?” he asked, unable to control the tears streaming down his face. He was just so happy to know that these people were his family. He had a family!

Both the girl and boy - his daughter and his son! - grinned and very eagerly stepped closer and flung their arms around him. It made him cry even harder but he just didn’t care anymore. It was so wonderful to hug these tiny people who happened to be his children.

He looked at the woman, that smile on her face and damn, she really was sexy and he sniffed and said to her, “You too, lady. You join us.”

She placed her arms around him, the children between them, and kissed him on the forehead. That was really, really, really nice and he closed his eyes. And opened them again, immediately.

“Wash your name?” he blurted, suddenly realising that he had no idea.

She giggled, kissed his forehead again and both children laughed. “Silly Daddy!”


End file.
